


This Night Ain't for the Holy Man

by ThrillingDetectiveTales



Series: Heaven Need a Sinner [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: If it had just been the once, Faraday thought a little desperately, they could have shrugged it off as a drunken mistake - Lord knew they'd both been fairly well corned that night, riding high on the success of their grand entry into town. Twice even, and they might have managed it.Yet here he was for the fifth or sixth time in half as many days, sprawled on his back across one of mattresses upstairs in the Imperial with Vasquez between his legs while the saloon rolled merrily on below.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is a sad dearth of raunchy Faraday/Vasquez porn here, friends. It's not really my forte, but somebody had to take one for the team!
> 
> Title comes from the delightful DOROTHY jam, [Wicked Ones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AW4vejDcVe8), which I can't recommend highly enough. Pretty much every song they've done speaks volumes to this pairing, IMO.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: Only the first chapter is actual fic! The second chapter is comprised of definitions, translations, and relevant, hopefully interesting notes!**

The first time, Faraday had been so soaked in whiskey that the whole of Rose Creek tilted dangerously whenever he turned his head. He'd never quite learned when to shut his mouth - so his ma always said, God rest her soul – and that went doubly so when he was soused. On top of the liquor, he'd been curious, which he really ought to have learned by now was a dangerous and incendiary combination.

Vasquez, wary of strangers as a man was wont to be when crawling belly through the brush, had loosened up considerably after the judicious application of backwater rotgut and home-cooked food. Faraday had thought him interesting before, coiled up like a bad-tempered snake in his flashy Mexican duds, but watching him laugh and joke, sucking scandalously on a cigar all the while, was capital T Trouble if Faraday had ever seen it.

He'd said any number of things that first night in town that made Vasquez's lip curl, his dark eyes glinting furiously. He would have laid off, probably should have, but something about Vasquez, wild and rangy and a half-second from biting at any given time, beckoned his attentions. Faraday had never been particularly good at exhibiting restraint.

He prodded and poked until finally, tucked away in the relative seclusion of the Imperial saloon's upstairs porch, Vasquez had leaned back against the railing with his legs spread wide and said in that low rumble, "You know, guero, I can think of better uses for your mouth."

Faraday had never bedded a man, though he might have considered it on occasion in the privacy of his own mind. In those rare moments, Vasquez – long and lean and easily of a height, maybe even an inch or two taller though Faraday would never admit it – was definitely not what he had pictured.

They were disastrously ill suited to one another, every coarse edge catching when they so much as made eye contact. They'd already been forcibly separated by their fellows more times than they could count between them for all that they had barely known one another forty-eight hours. The thought of the two of them - of Vasquez over top of him, heavy and strong and difficult enough to buck off that Faraday would have to expend real effort - made a flare of heat bloom in his gut.

Faraday wondered sometimes if he was wired wrong, the jittery roil in his blood urging him forward where most folk would read it as a warning to step away slowly. He'd always been partial to the thrill of bluffing a bad hand and they were liable to die in a week's time anyway, so he'd crowded into the space between Vasquez's legs, and said, "Oh yeah? Like what?"

If it had just been the once, Faraday thought a little desperately, they could have shrugged it off as a drunken mistake - Lord knew they'd both been fairly well corned that night, riding high on the success of their grand entry into town. Twice even, and they might have managed it.

Yet here he was for the fifth or sixth time in half as many days, sprawled on his back across one of mattresses upstairs in the Imperial with Vasquez between his legs while the saloon rolled merrily on below.

They'd wrestled each other onto the bed, fierce and brutal, Vasquez twisting like a viper at the last second and pinning Faraday to the mattress beneath him. If he had to pinpoint it, Faraday would say that was about where things started to go sideways.

He'd been trying all night to kick up Vasquez's ire, hadn't even stayed at the table long enough to bend an elbow, too intent on getting him bothered and mean and demanding the way he had been every night before. He'd been barking at a knot the whole while, the vaquero refusing to take the bait beyond cutting the occasional warning glance in Faraday's direction.

Vasquez was getting his revenge now that Faraday was pliant beneath him, taking great joy in pulling back just when he’d worked Faraday into a frenzy, waiting for him to settle before starting in again. It was different than their previous encounters, intimate in ways that made something strange and unfamiliar come buzzing to life in Faraday’s chest.

Vasquez had his mouth around Faraday's cock, his broad palms curled around Faraday's hips on either side. He was moving at a maddeningly slow pace, scruff occasionally scraping the inside of Faraday's thighs. Faraday had one hand tangled up in the dark curls atop Vasquez's head, the other one fisted in the sheets beside him.

For all his big talk about the many varied uses for Faraday's mouth, it was only the second time they'd traded this particular favor.

Faraday wasn’t especially good at it, they’d discovered the evening prior, coughing and gagging when Vasquez went too deep or too fast, the stubborn streak in him kicking up despite the discomfort and Vasquez's willingness to slow their tempo.

He'd thoroughly surprised himself by enjoying it. The weight of another man on his tongue, the comforting curl of a calloused palm around his jaw, made his stomach twist in hot and desperate ways he’d never experienced before. He'd finished with barely a stroke of his hand, so wound up from the taste and the feel of another man in his mouth, the spend he couldn’t bring himself to swallow spilling down his chin.

Vasquez, thankfully, hadn’t made a comment on it beyond running his thick fingers through Faraday’s hair and murmuring, “ _Mírate_ , guero,” while Faraday caught his breath, face hidden against Vasquez’s thigh.

Now, Vasquez sucked him down and Faraday tried desperately to drive up into the slick heat of his mouth. Vasquez held him in place with an arm across his hips. He trailed his tongue lazily up the length of Faraday's cock and pulled off with a grin, mouth red and wet.

“Relájate,” he chided. His voice was husky and rough-edged. “We have time.”

“I don’t need you to fuck me sweetly,” Faraday snapped.

“You want me to stop?” Vasquez asked, sucking coarse kisses into Faraday’s thigh, the crease of his hip.

“Fuck,” Faraday breathed, shivering. “No.”

Vasquez didn’t answer, but there was certain smugness to the way he licked a long stripe up Faraday’s length. Faraday watched for a few seconds while Vasquez worked up a slow, steady rhythm, biting his lip hard enough he thought it might bleed in the interest of sparing himself from blurting out something embarrassing, like how beautiful Vasquez looked with his mouth wrapped around him.

He let his head fall back onto the mattress, whining pathetically in the back of his throat when Vasquez sucked hard and took his balls in hand.

“Fuck,” he whimpered again. White heat pooled in his belly, and he was grabbing so tightly at Vasquez’s hair that it couldn’t be especially comfortable, not that there was anything he could do to stop himself. Vasquez made a pleased noise around him and the vibrations made Faraday’s toes curl.

It was far from the first time he’d had his cock sucked, but it seemed more, somehow, when it was Vasquez doing it – more salacious, more enjoyable, just _more_. Faraday hadn’t quite figured yet whether the intensity had to do with having another man’s tongue on him, generally speaking, or whether it was specific to Vasquez in particular.

While his mind wandered, Vasquez got a hand on him, twisting his grip around Faraday's shaft and pressing his thumb under the head. Faraday bucked up into his fist with a gasp and thought finally, _finally_ , they were getting somewhere, when through the tantalizing haze there was an altogether unexpected sensation considerably further southward than he was used to.

A spasm jolted through his entire body as he yelped and tried to scramble back up the bed.

He didn’t make it very far, considering that the bed wasn’t what one might call large and Vasquez still had an arm across his hips, anchoring him. The man in question had jumped up when Faraday did, instinctually removing his face from the path of Faraday’s flailing knees.

“Guero?” Vasquez asked, at the same time that Faraday demanded hotly, “What the hell was that?”

They stared one another down for a long moment, Vasquez with his face pulled into a frown, Faraday underneath him with his back up like a spitting cat.

“Siempre tiene que ser una pelea contigo,” Vasquez drawled with a sigh, affection bleeding through the concern on his face. "Why are you so difficult, guero?"

“I am a perfectly charming individual,” Faraday said. Vasquez smirked and huffed a disbelieving laugh. Faraday hated his handsome face.

“You trust me?” he asked, cupping a hand around Faraday’s ankle and running his hand soothingly along Faraday’s calf.

“I don’t know, I haven’t decided,” Faraday snapped mulishly, kicking Vasquez's hand off.

Vasquez rolled his eyes and leaned in. Faraday, who was not feeling especially generous considering his flagging hard-on and the unnecessary interruption of a perfectly enjoyable evening, turned his face away.

“You’re testing my patience, mijo,” Vasquez muttered, and reached up to take Faraday’s chin in hand, keeping him still. It was something so minor, just a firm grip holding Faraday in place, nothing he couldn't break out of if he had a half of mind, but it made sparks light in his chest all the same.

At first they hadn't kissed much, as a general rule, and when they did it was hard-edged and sharp, more of a fight than anything.

Vasquez was doing things differently tonight, slow and sweet in a way that pulled a painful ribbon of emotion from behind Faraday’s sternum that he didn't care to look at too closely. Faraday balked at the tenderness, tried to bite at him, but Vasquez just grinned and leaned in again. He licked into Faraday's mouth and ran his thumb gently along the edge of Faraday’s jaw, which was patently unfair.

Faraday was a mean cuss, and he knew it. He drank too much, gambled too much, and had made quite a reputation for himself doing both. He hated that he was so quick to gentle under the strange affection that Vasquez was angling his way. He sighed, cursing his weak will, and tilted his head for a better angle. Vasquez dragged his free hand up Faraday’s thigh, knuckles brushing against the blade of Faraday’s hip.

“Better?” he asked, pulling away just barely enough to speak.

Faraday narrowed his eyes and didn't respond. Vasquez smirked at him, amused.

“You trust me?” he asked again, brushing their noses together.

“In a shootout, maybe," Faraday grumbled, because that question had been answered the moment he'd stood back to back with the man against a street full of hired guns and they both knew it. “Less so with whatever shit you're pulling tonight.”

Vasquez hummed into his mouth.

“I been thinking about you," he said, reaching between them and wrapping a calloused palm around the base of Faraday's cock.

Faraday groaned and arched up into his grip. It was still a little wet from his previous attentions and the slide was just on the bearable side of too rough.

“Can't fault you for that," he grinned. Vasquez arched an eyebrow at him.

"You fight, all time time," he murmured, leaning down to nuzzle against Faraday's neck.

"No shit," Faraday laughed. Vasquez trailed his lips across Faraday's collarbone, swirled his tongue around Faraday's nipple, sucked it into his mouth and smirked when Faraday moaned.

"I think you fight," he said thoughtfully into Faraday's sternum, sucking a line of dark marks down the plane of his belly, "because you no let anyone take their time with you. I think you worry that you would like it."

Faraday rutted up a little, only managing the barest of friction against Vasquez's hip before the other man clicked his tongue disapprovingly and shifted away.

"That a fact?” Faraday asked. Vasquez shrugged.

"A bet," he corrected, laving the line of Faraday's hip with his tongue. He looked up, arching an eyebrow. "You interested?"

Faraday's pulse kicked up, that gambler's thrill drumming in his chest.

"What're the stakes?" he said, taking care to keep his tone loose and unconcerned. From the knowing glint in Vasquez's eyes, he was less successful than he'd have liked.

"You let me take my time with you," Vasquez said, giving him a few slow pulls, twisting his wrist as he slid his hand up Faraday's length, slick and tight. "You tell me honest at the end that you don't like it, you win."

Faraday's stomach felt bubbly and loose, like it was detached from his body, buzzing with excitement the same way it did in those eternal seconds before he started shooting. He swallowed and forced himself to relax.

"What do I win?"

Vasquez smirked, wolfish.

"That's a surprise, guero."

"Don't seem very fair," he muttered, satisfied when his voice only shook a little.

"Tómelo o déjelo," Vasquez said, willfully unhelpful.

Faraday took a deep breath.

"Fine. Deal."

"Bueno," Vasquez grinned and ducked his head, licking up and down Faraday's shaft a few times, sloppy wet. He ran his tongue across Faraday's drummers, which was not something that happened often enough to be commonplace, and which Faraday really, _really_ liked; particularly when he felt the drag of Vasquez's beard against his skin.

"Fuck," he moaned, slipping an encouraging hand into Vasquez's hair.

"Careful, guerito," Vasquez rumbled, satisfied. "Sounds like you're enjoying yourself."

"Fuck you," Faraday snapped.

Vasquez laughed, settling in to lavish his balls with attention, sucking one into his mouth and then the other until Faraday was making pathetic little keening noises and twisting his fist in the sheets. It was something he could never find the energy to be concerned with in the moment but would make him go redder than the Devil's ass come morning, this helpless, wanton place that Vasquez always managed to get him to, laid out and moaning like a painted cat.

While Faraday was good and thoroughly lost to overwhelming sensation, Vasquez licked a hot stripe across his hole. Faraday whined and shuddered, flinching away from it instinctively.

"What are you doin'?" he demanded hotly.

"Taking my time," Vasquez replied. His voice was deeper than usual, gone low and dark with want, and it sent a visceral bolt of desire shooting up Faraday's spine. He licked again, quick and hot, and grinned when Faraday flinched. "Unless you want to call the wager off."

Faraday glared and let his legs fall open a little further. Vasquez grinned even wider, sharp at the corners.

"Que bueno, guerito," he said, and dipped his head back down.

His tongue was hot and wet and alien in a way that made something roll and heave in Faraday's belly, torn between screaming desire and stubborn determination.

"Fuck," he hissed. Vasquez took it upon himself to spread Faraday open with his fingers and work his tongue deeper. It was strange, and awkward, and so, so good, every hot lash sending a tendril of fire crawling up Faraday's spine.

" _Fuck_ ," Faraday breathed again, and surprised himself by rocking into the sensation, wanting it deeper, wanting more.

Vasquez huffed a laugh, and Faraday could feel the heat of it against his skin. He whimpered and gasped, pressing his heels into the mattress while Vasquez licked him open, pulling all sorts of damning sounds out of him, straight from the fire gathering in his gut.

After a few long moments, Vasquez pressed his mouth to the inside of Faraday's thigh, sucked a hard, lingering mark there while Faraday's cock jumped against his belly.

"Dame un momento, guero." He kissed Faraday's knee and leaned over off of the mattress, digging around for something in the jumble of clothes they'd left strewn across the floor. "Necesito - ah."

There was a small scuffling sound that Faraday couldn't identify without raising his head - which he frankly refused to do because it would necessitate looking Vasquez in the eye. He wasn't sure what was in his face right now, but he knew he didn't want Vasquez reading it, whatever it was. Vasquez shifted, the mattress rocking with his weight, and a vaguely familiar aroma wafted up the bed, medicinal but sweet.

"What are you - " Faraday started to ask, but then Vasquez was diving back in again, pressing his tongue deeper without any warning.

Faraday yelped and tilted his hips up into it, tangling his fingers in Vasquez's hair. Vasquez spread him apart again, only this time his fingers were coated in something slippery. It was cold and startling next to the firebrand of his mouth. Faraday hissed, twitching away, and Vasquez licked him again.

"Lo siento, guerito. It'll warm up."

Faraday was about to ask what it was for when Vasquez traced the spit-slick rim of his hole with the tip of a calloused finger. The implications were clear, and Faraday's entire body shuddered at the thought.

"He dicho que le gustaría," Vasquez said smugly. He dragged his finger back and forth a few times, teasing, and Faraday shivered again. Vasquez pushed into him just a little, a blunt pressure and a slight burn as the muscle gave to allow him entry.

"You - " he gasped. "Fuck - "

"Want me to stop?" Vasquez asked. Faraday licked his lips, but his entire mouth had gone dry. When he didn't answer, Vasquez pressed a little deeper, and rumbled, "Guero?"

Faraday swallowed, his whole body tensing up. He clenched his jaw and scowled up at the ceiling. Vasquez withdrew his finger a little way, drawing it across Faraday's entrance in short, wet strokes.

"Digame que no le gusta," he said, voice low and warning. Faraday didn't need to understand him to know what he meant. "Just one word, guerito, and I stop. You win."

Faraday took a breath through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. His stomach twisted, his blood pumping loud and hot and demanding.

"Don't - " he heard himself day, voice trembling and distant, like his head was full of cotton, "don't stop."

Vasquez didn't say a word, but the smug satisfaction radiating off of him was palpable, filling the room like smoke. Faraday thought a little hysterically that if he opened his mouth, he'd be able to taste it.

Vasquez pressed into him again and it was - _God_ \- even better than his tongue. Peculiar, and a little uncomfortable, but whatever oil or salve Vasquez had poured on his hands greased the way neatly, and the rough drag, the feel of him made something in Faraday's belly light up white-hot every time he shifted. It felt an awful lot like winning, for all that it was a firm and unequivocal loss.

"Que bueno, guerito," Vasquez said lowly, working a second finger in alongside the first in short, smooth strokes that punched little sprays of sparks up Faraday's spine. "Estas haciendo tan bueno."

"Shut up with that Mexican bullshit," Faraday gritted hotly through his teeth.

It was bad enough that he'd nearly lost his head getting on his knees for Vasquez. He wasn't sure how he was ever going to look at him again after this.

He grabbed at the sheets, rocking his hips in time with the motion of Vasquez's ministrations, eyes screwed up tight, furious with Vasquez for slithering past his defenses so thoroughly, furious with himself for letting it happen.

“Jesus!” he gasped, when he felt a third finger probing for entry alongside the other two. “I c - can’t –”

“Sí, tu puedes,” Vasquez murmured reassuringly. “Let me – ”

He dragged one of Faraday’s legs up around his waist, tilting Faraday’s hips just so and working his fingers deeper, expanding and contracting them in tiny increments that made Faraday shudder and shake.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathed, reaching up to press the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“Look at me, guero,” Vasquez growled. Faraday shook his head. He could feel the hard, hot line of Vasquez’s cock sliding against his thigh, could smell the musk of him, close and overwhelming.

“I don’t – ” he tried. Vasquez grumbled something that he couldn’t quite make out and did something with his fingers that made fireworks explode all through Faraday’s body. He arched up into it, crying out, skin buzzing like he’d been lit aflame. He let his hands fall to his sides and stared up at Vasquez, gasping, eyes wide.

“Ahí estas,” Vasquez said approvingly.

“Fuck you," Faraday spat. His limbs were trembling, his cock hard and leaking, curved up toward his belly.

Vasquez let his eyes wander the length of Faraday’s body, gaze dark and hungry.

“I think _I_ am the one fucking _you_ , guero." He grinned wolfishly, sharp and flint-edged, and leaned down to claim Faraday’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

It was brutal. Their teeth caught, and Faraday bit furiously at Vasquez’s mouth, want and rage all tangled up inside him like a knot. Vasquez laughed against his lips and it only made him angrier. He crooked his fingers again, catching on that same spot that sent stars spinning behind Faraday’s eyelids, and Faraday got his hands into Vasquez’s hair and pulled hard while he groaned.

“I knew you would like it,” Vasquez murmured with a grin, pressing a kiss to Faraday’s jaw, tracing his tongue around the back of Faraday’s ear in the way he knew made gooseflesh prickle down Faraday’s neck.

“You're a regular genius,” Faraday groused sarcastically, though it probably lost a little of its effect with the way he gasped when Vasquez curled his fingers. Vasquez’s eyes were bright coals above his smirk, burning with promise.

He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the very fine floral comforter. Faraday would never admit, even upon pain of death, that he whimpered at the sudden loss.

"What're you doin'?" he demanded.

"Necesito más," Vasquez replied absently, sitting up on his knees. He slipped an arm around the thigh Faraday had hung over his hip and pulled them closer together, picking a small glass bottle up off of the comforter. Faraday frowned at it.

"Is that Rowland's?" he asked, disbelieving. Vasquez cut him a look that spoke volumes about how deliberately stupid he thought Faraday was being. Faraday raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I didn't figure you for a dandy."

Vasquez snorted.

"Even I go to church sometimes, guero." He poured a little bit of oil out into his hand and closed the bottle up, tossing it aside. Running his dry palm along Faraday's thigh, he said wistfully, "Si no sería una batalla otro," and rutted his dick against the oil-slick cleft of Faraday's ass, head catching on his entrance.

Faraday froze, every nerve ending in his body lit up like a bonfire. Vasquez made a small, rueful sound and started to shift away. Faraday, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard he thought they might crack under the onslaught, reeled him back in with the leg around his waist.

Vasquez looked at him, dark eyes wide, surprised and a little hopeful.

" _Guero_ ," he growled, hoarse and low and warning. Faraday clenched his jaw and glared up at him, challenging. Vasquez took a long breath and rocked his hips back and forth, the slide of him flaring through Faraday's body like lightning. "You know what you're asking for?"

"We got a wager," Faraday said, throat dry, as if Vasquez hadn't already handily won. He dug his fists into the sheets so that the other man wouldn't see them shaking. "Hardly fair if we don't play with a full deck, is it?"

"Vas a matarme," Vasquez groaned, and stroked his hand around himself a few times, coating his cock with Macassar oil. He hooked his arm under Faraday's knee, pulling his leg up higher. Faraday's face went hot - it felt obscene, being so exposed, but the barely banked fire in Vasquez's eyes while he lined himself up was more than worth the embarrassment.

Vasquez pushed forward, rolling his hips in tiny, incremental motions until he slipped past the tight ring of muscle at Faraday's entrance. Faraday gasped and tensed - it was significantly different than the slowly building pressure of Vasquez's fingers, the hot slide of his tongue. It burned, and ached a little, and Faraday made a noise much too close to a sob for his liking.

"Relájate, mijo," Vasquez soothed. He wrapped his fist around Faraday's dick, stroking it up and down in time with the motions of his hips.

"Goddamnit," Faraday moaned. His eyes were watering, and Vasquez, on the larger size of average, felt impossibly big, pushing into him. He canted his hips and dug his heel into the back of Vasquez's thigh, urging him forward. His shallow, careful thrusts set Faraday's teeth on edge - unbearably slow to a man whose relationship with patience was nigh on nonexistent.

Vasquez seemed to catch his meaning, moving a little faster, pushing a little harder, murmuring darkly, "Puta madre, guero."

He leaned forward and drove his hips into Faraday with a fierce snap that sent a ripple of pleasure rolling out to the edges of Faraday's limbs.

"Fuck," Faraday breathed. "Do that again."

Vasquez happily obliged, rolling his hips in earnest. It still ached, but those little ripples started to build into a cresting wave. Faraday felt suspended between the calloused edge of Vasquez's grip and the heady drag of his dick, strung up like a rabbit over the fire, whole body climbing hotter and hotter.

He was distantly aware of his own voice, nonsensical exhalations punched out of him with every long slide of Vasquez into him. Vasquez let his leg go and fell forward, propping himself up with his forearm and burying his face against Faraday's jaw, dragging a line of searing kisses down his throat.

Faraday wrapped his legs around Vasquez's waist, scrabbling for purchase against his broad shoulders and shuddering as the sensations built, threatening to drag him under.

"Suéltalo, guero," Vasquez rumbled against his neck. "Te tengo a ti."

Faraday rocked back and forth, between the tight heat of Vasquez's hand and the burning pressure of his cock. He shifted once, twice, and then everything boiled over, spilling hot across Vasquez's hand and both their bellies. While Faraday gasped and shuddered, Vasquez braced himself against the mattress with both arms, snapped his hips into Faraday so hard that he inched up the bed, and spent in a searing burst, collapsing warm and heavy and solid over top of him.

Faraday reached clumsily up to slide his hand into Vasquez's hair, cupping the back of his head while Vasquez gasped against his shoulder. They laid like that for a few long moments, just breathing together, Vasquez still buried inside him and absently rubbing his face against Faraday's skin. Faraday ran his hand through the sweat-soaked curls at the nape of Vasquez's neck and did not find it in any way attractive when the outlaw, slumped bonelessly over his body, started purring like a barn cat. Faraday felt like he'd melted, himself - his whole body gone soft and lazy, all the righteous indignation burned out of him, the muzzy warmth of sleep easing in behind his eyes.

"Here lies Joshua Faraday," he said after awhile, throat dry and voice shaky. "He turned up his cock to a Mexican outlaw, and turned up his toes to the daisies."

Vasquez chuckled, and Faraday could feel it in every place they touched. He nosed at the line of Faraday's jaw and pressed a kiss against his cheek. This was another thing they'd never done before, lying together after the fact. They tended to crash together so hard that the only option was to ricochet violently away.

"Qué dices, guero?" Vasquez asked.

Faraday turned his face toward Vasquez, which put his mouth in the vicinity of Vasquez's temple. He wasn't prone to tenderness in any sense of the term, but it seemed foolish not to kiss it while it was right there.

"I've told you a hundred times, I don't speak Mexican," he grumbled. Vasquez curved a hand over his hip and nuzzled the line of his throat.

"What did you think?" he clarified.

Faraday considered this.

Vasquez had his head tucked up under Faraday's chin, running his thumb absently along Faraday's hip.

"Awful," he said serenely. "I hated every second of it."

"Mentiroso," Vasquez grumbled good-naturedly. He shifted, pulling out of Faraday slowly.

Faraday hissed at the sensation, and the immediate wetness that accompanied it. He frowned up at the ceiling.

"That is distinctly unpleasant."

Vasquez rolled onto his back, digging around on the floor until he came up with the bandana Faraday wore around his neck. He used it to sop up the mess on his own stomach and then reached over to attend to Faraday's, dipping between his legs until Faraday got antsy and kicked him away.

"You staying?" Vasquez asked, settling down onto one of the pillows. Faraday rolled over onto his side, slung a leg across Vasquez's hips.

"Nope," he said, shifting obligingly when Vasquez slid an arm underneath him, pulling Faraday's head up onto his shoulder.

"You are a bad liar, guero," Vasquez murmured, amused. Faraday closed his eyes.

"Shut up and turn that lamp off," he snapped.

Vasquez laughed, but did as he was told.


	2. Reference

In the interest of making it easy to follow along with the fic, I've elected to list all of the period-specific definitions and Spanish translations in chronological order. As far as the Spanish goes, there was a time in my life when I was toeing the edge of fluency but it's been many years since then. Any turns of phrase, punctuation, or grammar I was unsure of I did my best to research and make the right choices on, but there are undoubtedly mistakes. I welcome any corrections!

 

 

> **belly through the brush:** dodging the law
> 
> **rotgut:** liquor, or occasionally moonshine
> 
> **guero:** a (usually derogatory) term for a fair person with hair ranging from blonde to auburn to light brown; it has [pretty interesting origins](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G%C3%BCero), if that's your thing
> 
> **corned:** drunk
> 
> **to bend an elbow:** to get drunk/have a drink
> 
> **barking at a knot:** engaging in a futile activity
> 
> **spend:** in this instance, meaning come/jizz/spunk
> 
> **mírate:** look at you; this particular conjugation is used when giving an order or making a request
> 
> **relájate:** relax; also used as an order/request
> 
> **siempre tiene que ser una pelea contigo:** it always has to be a fight with you
> 
> **mijo:** a shortened version of "mi hijo" - my son - which is equivalent to using an affectionate term like "my dear"
> 
> **tómelo o déjelo:** take it or leave it
> 
> **bueno** **:** good
> 
> **drummers** : balls
> 
> **guerito** : an affectionate bastardization of "guero"  
>    
>  _(Fun fact: I'm almost positive that during the big shootout, after Faraday gets shot and Vasquez avenges him, when they're both out in the street with Billy Rocks, Vasquez actually says, "Keep shooting, guerito!" Granted, I could have heard wrong, but I live in fannish hope.)_
> 
> **painted cat:** a prostitute
> 
> **que bueno, guerito** **:** that's good, guerito
> 
> **dame un momento, guero:** give me a moment, guero
> 
> **necesito** : I need
> 
> **lo siento, guerito** : i'm sorry, guerito
> 
> **he dicho que le gustaría:** I told you that you would like it
> 
> **digame que no le gusta:** tell me you don't like it
> 
> **estas haciendo tan bueno:** you're doing so good
> 
> **sí, tu puedes:** yes, you can
> 
> **ahí estas** : there you are
> 
> **necesito más:** I need more
> 
> **Rowland's/[Macassar oil](http://thehistoryofthehairsworld.com/hair_19th_century.html)** : a hair taming/conditioning oil developed in the early 1780s and popularized by barber [Alexander Rowland](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macassar_oil), who eventually began marketing a name-brand version; it was generally a blend of either coconut, palm, or gum lac oil mixed with ylang-ylang and other fragant oils; [apparently it got all over everything](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antimacassar)
> 
> _(Fun fact: I did a LOT of research into 19th century vaquero/cowboy saddle care and 19th century hair care trying to figure out the likeliest substance that these fellas would use as lube. Macassar oil would probably actually have been a little bit on the expensive side for such an indulgent use but a) I figure that Vasquez doesn't have a whole lot of other places to use it aside from the briefly mentioned churchgoing stints and b) I couldn't bring myself to have them use[bear grease](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bear%27s_grease) or [neatsfoot oil](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neatsfoot_oil).)_
> 
> **si no sería una batalla otro:** if it wouldn't be another battle
> 
> **vas a matarme:** you're going to kill me; I changed this one from "me matarías" although I'm not totally sure that the sentiment holds up in either version
> 
> **puta madre:** literally "fucking mother" - this was a tough one to pick because there are [so many great Spanish swears out there](http://www.wildjunket.com/2009/03/19/top-10-spanish-swear-words/)
> 
> **suéltalo:** let it go/let go
> 
> **te tengo a ti** : I've got you
> 
> **to turn up one's toes to the daisies:** a colorful old turn of phrase meaning one had died
> 
> **qué dices:** what do you say?
> 
> **mentiroso** : liar

 

Hoo boy, y'all! I think that's all I got!

I think it's pretty clear, based on the list above, that my head-canon is that Vasquez complains to Faraday _about_ Faraday in Spanish, because he knows if he said anything in English Faraday would wind up in a twist about it.

I did try to do some actual research into this silly bit of porn, but I'm sorry if there are any really egregious errors. If I've missed anything, or if you would like further clarification on anything, please let me know!

I hope that this handy little guide is helpful, and thank you again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> **Y'ALL.**
> 
>  
> 
> You might have seen me flailing around down thereabouts in the comments section but **Mianewarcher** drew some [amazing porny fanart](http://thisisformynaughtyshit.tumblr.com/post/151359496912/faradayvasquez-smut-of-the-enth-degree-more-to) to go with the story! It's very NSFW but so, so good! Go, view, lavish this lovely artist with affection while I slowly expire out of sheer joy! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] This Night Ain't for the Holy Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464909) by [MistMarauder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistMarauder/pseuds/MistMarauder)




End file.
